


Hard Night under the Office

by darkwingduckie7



Series: Bored Summer Series [2]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: BDSM, M/M, PWP, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:31:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkwingduckie7/pseuds/darkwingduckie7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Hard Day at the Tourist Office. More smut. Ianto punishes Jack for his earlier behavior (Dom!Ianto).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard Night under the Office

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ on April 16th, 2012.

Afterclosing the Tourist Office, Ianto made his way back down to the Hub. The team was ready for more coffee (when were they not?) and he knew he would give in to his OCD and clean anyway after he saw another bored day’s trash littering the Hub.

Hegave Tosh (always considerate) her coffee with a smile since her work area was clean. He was sure she noticed his frustration and appreciated her help.

Owen (bastard, prat, wanker) ignored him while elbow deep in alien guts, he left the coffee on a side table and backed away silently. He really did not want to risk alien guts on his new suit.

The caught Gwen on her way to Jack’s office, he gave her both coffees asking politely to pass one on to Jack. He needed to avoid the Captain until the others went home for his plan to work. He wanted Jack to think he was irritated (frustrated, annoyed) and making his lover sweat would ensure he was in the right frame of mind for his “punishment” later.

Once everyone else left and Jack was locking down the Hub for the night, Ianto positioned himself in Jack’s office, leaning back against his desk, ass slightly sitting on the edge, arms folded; the paddle he spread out next to him gleaming in the dim blue lights of computer monitors.

Jack grinned upon seeing Ianto, “Waiting to have some fun?”

Ianto, a stern mask adorning his face, one eyebrow raised, spoke in a ‘you-are-so-in-trouble’ voice, “Not for you.”

Jack grinned wider (if that was even possible), “Ooh, so am I in trouble? Will I get punished?” The word ‘punished’ emphasized with air quotes around it.

Ianto retorted in a tone that one would use to question a naughty five year old with, “Did you do anything that deserves punishment?”

“Uh,” Jack’s grin slightly faltered and his eyes flickered to the paddle he must have noticed just now. “The dirty talk through the comms. during work hours?”

A sinister smile crossed Ianto’s face and he stroked the paddle next to him gently, lovingly. Jack’s grin fell, he shifted from foot to foot, gaze not wavering from the paddle, unease dripping from his body. Ianto imagined he could see his lover’s pulse escalate on that delicious part of his neck right above the collar bone.

“Downstairs. You have five minutes,” Ianto took out his stopwatch, “to take off your shoes and socks only. Then get on your bed, on all fours, lean on your elbows, arse in the air.” He clicked the button on top, “Now.”

Jackhesitated, gaze moving up, watching Ianto intensely; the stern mask on his lover’s face, dominating body posture, and chilling voice. His gaze fell to the bulge in the Welshman’s trousers and then moved up to the slight twinkle in his eyes, seeping in through his façade. This was going to be a funishment, painful but worth it in the end.

1 minute.

Ianto observed the emotions play out on Jack’s face, eyes moving, taking in the situation; the games they played were the only time the Captain allowed his camouflage to slip. The games were a competition between the two, their battles for dominance. But for any given session, the one who set the rules didn’t get fought (unless that was the point).

He watched Jack question about whether he should fight or submit so Ianto scrunched up his brow penetrating Jack with his eyes, right through to his soul. The minor shift in his demeanor sent a clear sign to Jack and propelled him into action as he leapt downstairs.

2 minutes.

Not moving an iota, Ianto secured his dominant persona in place. He tested his glass (not the strongest substance but he needed to watch, to have a tie to the real world so he wouldn’t get lost) Dom walls, finding no cracks or fissures.

Jack could be a brat (always testing), he’d never been sure if it was on purpose or just Jack’s inability to let go and trust someone else, but if he could maintain control Jack would eventually get lost in the moment, forget that he doesn’t trust anyone fully.

3 minutes.

His shoulders square with tension, Ianto knew (hoped) he could break his lover’s barriers, be stern but gentle. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, in through his nose, out through the mouth, his diaphragm inflating and deflating in a steady rhythm.

4 minutes.

Shrugging off his jacket, he rolled up his sleeves up to his elbows; shoes and socks appeared neatly next to the desk, the cold concrete floor chilled his entire being. The desire to jump down into the hatch and take Jack rough and fast flooded his system but he pressed it back down into the toy box within his four walls. Control.

5 minutes.

Caressingthe paddle, he allowed it to ground him.

Show time.

Ianto was met with the most beautiful sight in the universe as he stepped down from the ladder; Captain Jack Harkness, immortal hero, ex-Time Agent, Doctor’s companion, con-man, intergalactic sex god, staying still in a beautifully submissive pose just for him, a lowly teaboy from Newport. He leaned back against the ladder in awe and let the vision flow through him, warping every pore of his being, seeping through the recesses of his soul. The earlier chill was replaced by heat, passion pulsating through his mind and threatening to shatter his glass walls of control.

He had to remind himself to breathe when his burning lungs brought him back to reality. This one moment comprised all of existence; the birth, life, and death of the universe. He grounded himself again; closing his eyes, fingers caressing the paddle, diaphragmatic breathing sending shards of ice to cool his body with each breath.

He let a whisper slip out with a gasp, “Beautiful.”

He watched Jack’s body shiver at his admission. Blush flushed his cheeks and he had to compose himself again, push it down into the deep corners of his psyche. Remain in control.

He strode toward Jack, slow and calculated movements putting as much power into his body language as he could muster. Jack turned toward the noise but Ianto grabbed his hair forcefully and turned his head back down toward the bed, “No moving, no talking, no making any sounds unless otherwise specifically ordered. This is your punishment and if you take it I will reward you at the end. If you don’t, I’ll tie you up and make you sleep like that with a hard on. Understood? You may speak.”

A momentary hesitation and then a trembling voice (fear? anticipation? arousal?) echoed against the walls, “Yes, Sir.”

Ianto stroked the Captains hair gently, his fingers buried deep inside the softness, “Good.” Another shiver, he had Jack exactly where he wanted him.

Paddle still held in the other hand, he set it down on the bed alongside Jack’s head, just so that the other man could make it out in his peripheral vision. He watched Jack struggle, wanting to turn his head and look, the internal battle playing out through his twitching shoulder muscles. With an audible gulp as he swallowed the conflict down, clearly deciding to submit to Ianto’s verbal restrains.

It still filled Ianto with wonder watching Jack rein in his larger than life persona. It was delightfully cruel to punish Jack so, the man who doesn’t seem to be able to sit still or be quiet willingly suppressing his natural instincts. The corners of Ianto’s mouth twitched upward into a slight smile.

Joining Jack on the bed, he kneeled behind him between the wide open legs with a perfect view of the Captain’s arse; all his to watch, to touch, to command. He settled in just watching, ensuring again the walls of his Dom space still stood solid.

He liked taking it slow; taking in every peaceful moment with Jack when the world stopped moving and the cannibals, fairies, Weevils, Rift and everything it spits out doesn’t exist; when the world was not ending. In the now. Control.

He placed his hands on Jack’s arse, feeling it through the clothes. The soft material of his lover’s trousers felt magnificently as he rubbed circles with his fingers. Jack’s warmth (always warm) seeped through the clothes creating a safe cocoon around them.

“You have a perfect arse, Jack. Did you know that?” His voice calm and gentle, he thickened his accent trying to hypnotize Jack with his speech.

He traced a finger down the seam n the middle, pressing lightly into the crack.

“Of course you know. I understand how vain you are, always looking in the mirror, chasing down that one grey hair.”

He dragged his fingers down Jack’s thighs, feeling the straining muscles. Focusing on them one by one, he started to massage the tension out.

“But that grey hair… those little lines by your eyes… Did you know that is what makes you beautiful? That those tiny imperfections take my breath way?”

He felt a half moan (protest?) from Jack and promptly smacked his arse hard, “Shh, I only get to talk right now. And you get to listen.”

Lightly, he dragged his fingers up the thighs and around the arse, stopping at the waist band of the trousers. He could feel Jack’s breathing through the movement of his back, so slight he would have missed it if he wasn’t focused on every twitch of his Captain’s body.

His fingers went around to his stomach and he popped the button, at the same time slowly stroking Jack’s stomach through the fabric. Moving down until he reached the zipper, the soft noise deafening in the silent atmosphere.

His searching fingers brushed against Jack’s hard bulge still incased in pants and the man underneath him moved toward the touch. Quickly removing his fingers, Ianto smacked Jack arse hard again but kept his voice calm, gentle, and stern (in control), “I said no moving. Do you not know how to listen, Jack? Maybe not with all the talking you normally do, no one can get a word in edgewise. And your mouth gets you in so much trouble, doesn’t it?”

Iantowatched as Jack looked like he was about to respond in some way his body tensing and releasing a few times. He could point to the exact moment the tension left the body and Jack just accepted (for now).

Running a soothing hand on the same cheek, Ianto praised him, “Good. I promise if you listen I’ll reward you after.”

Reaching back to the front of the trousers, Ianto resumed the lights brushes of his fingertips, the heat (always warm) from Jack’s cock almost overwhelming. Wrapping his fingers around the band, the archivist sluggishly dragged the trousers down to his lover’s knees. There they would serve as a restraint, a reminder of Ianto’s command.

Tracing his fingers back up the thighs and the bulge in the pants, Ianto murmured, “So hard, so lovely, and all mine.”

Instead of stopping at the stomach, he continued his gentle circling movements while unbuttoning each shirt button. Each pop pierced the silence, disturbing the stillness like ripples in a pond.

He felt every muscle twitch as he made his way up the abdomen and then the chest, memorizing every detail of this amazing man. After the last button, he brushed his fingers along the collarbone not being able to stop the moan escaping his lips; the contrast between the softness of the neck and the jagged edge of the bone underscored by the pulse rushing past his pads send shocks of desire coursing through his body. He paused, checking on his glass Dom walls he focused on the cracks, filling them in. Maintain control.

Shaking, he moved his hands back to the hem of the shirt and in one sharp movement lifted it up moving it over Jack’s head and letting it fall. The shirt would serve as a similar restraint like the trousers, reminding Jack of who’s in control.

Bare back glistening (glad the Captain wasn’t wearing a vest underneath), Ianto sat back to enjoy the view, “You really are lovely Jack. You look so scrumptious, legs and hands entangled, restrained, in fabric. And your back, arched so gloriously, positioning your arse at the perfect angle to be fucked. How did I get so lucky having these stolen moments with you straight from the 51st century?”

Hands back touched the arse needing the heat, “Definitely a fine vintage that century.”

Jack seemed to glow from the praise, releasing a mass dose of pheromones, honey and cinnamon invading; seeping into Ianto’s every pore. Lost in the touch, the smell, light headed buzzing in his brain; he tried to contemplate his next move. Regain control.

“Jack? I’ll give you a choice. I could fuck you right now but won’t let you cum or I’ll spank your arse, hands and paddle, and then I’ll fuck you but let you come. You may speak now.”

Arush of air escaped from Jack’s lungs, Ianto watched as his body betrayed the workings in his brain. The Captain deliberated, weighing of his options and trying to determine that if Ianto fucked him now, what the chances would be that he’d let him cum anyway. Ianto waited, letting Jack struggle, it was fun to watch because he already knew the answer. In this regard Jack was always predictable, even if he didn’t realize it himself. Jack would never cut a scene short or forego an orgasm.

Finally Jack’s decision spilled quickly from his lips, “S-spank me please, Sir.”

Even knowing the answer beforehand, Ianto couldn’t help but be delighted at the slight stutter and the delicious trembling of the vocal cords. It all went into his previously ignored but strained cock and he massaged Jack’s back for a few moments and praised for the pleasure he felt, “Good Jack. You’ll look so exquisite with my marks on your arse.”

Jack seemed to preen under the praise and Ianto struggled not to chuckle, not to break the mood. His lover was still fighting but seemed to be slipping deeper and deeper, hopefully by the end he would let it all go and just accept.

Ianto sunk his teeth into Jack’s arse cheek biting hard, marking (however temporary), “All mine.” Proud of Jack for holding still during the sudden assault even though he saw the surprise through the loud exhale.

He took off his tie and placed it around Jack’s neck. The movement startled Jack, but Ianto allowed it, he was feeling generous and Jack was about to get spanked well anyway. Squeezing the tie just enough to cut off some airflow, he asked, “You can talk to answer the next question Jack. What do you want?”

Loosening the tie, he felt the man grow incredibly still and knew he was reflecting on the question before giving his answer. Jack had already made his choice; this was just a confirmation of Ianto’s power and Jack’s second chance to discontinue the scene. The tone of the scene changed, more intense than originally planned for and Ianto needed to be sure of his lover’s consent.

The answer was barely a whisper, a breath of air that barely resembled a word which he would have missed if he wasn’t listening for it, “Anything…”

Glad for the permission, Ianto knew that from now on he may not be in the frame of mind to stop and enquire. He’d stop if Jack asked but he could feel Jack was too deep for that. They were both heading now on this unknown road, not sure where it would lead them to; utter bliss or devastating disaster.

But thinking was overrated, his glass Dom walls patched up, taking a deep breath he pulled the pants down, slowly unwrapping his precious gift, and let a breath out, “Gorgeous.”

Jack’s naked behind stared back at him as he balanced on his heels. The striking symmetry of the cheeks and flawless shape filled him with wonder, wonder at the beauty and intricacy of the human body, and more specifically Jack’s human (mostly) body.

He couldn’t help himself; he placed dozens of butterfly kisses all over Jack’s arse, some with light nips and others with subtle licks. Sighing from pleasure of just being able to worship his Captain, he licked the crack from right where it started at the top down to the perineum. As he grazed over the pucker, he felt it shudder under his wet and gentle ministrations.

Onthe second pass up, he paused and lavished adoration to the hole. Licking, he folded his tongue to make a tip and prodded the opening. The sensitive body welcoming his veneration, muscles pulsated around his tongue in rhythm with his thrusts. A fog clouded his brain; he was getting lost in his senses.

Reining back, he pulled away. Jack’s silent panting could be heard in a whoosh of air, body trembling (from sensations? from trying to stay still?).

It was almost drowned out by his own breathing, deeply in through the nose and out through the mouth, he settled back on his heels. He had a job to do and he needed control. Not control over Jack that could only come from Jack himself but control over his own being.

That beautiful arse tempted him to fuck it with his tongue or better yet his cock. But spanking it was also tempting so Ianto with one controlled movement smacked the right cheek and then the left. Jack twitched from surprise but remained steady as Ianto rained down smacks progressively adding in intensity.

The lightly tanned flesh picked up a rosy color as the sit spot and upper thighs withstood the torment. The pink turned to red as blood swelled close to the surface, burning (always warm) through Ianto’s hand, seeping into his core.

Watching Jack shake, he moved back onto his heels. Checking the arse he saw a picturesque flush of color. He moved to get a view of Jack’s face and saw red-rimmed eyes but an appearance of contentment in his features. The stunning man was in the process of becoming undone and Ianto trembled as the shock of the tremendous responsibility hit him like a lorry barreling down the M-4.

Rubbing the crimson flesh, soothing the pain, he spoke gently and calmly, “Jack, I’ll give you ten with the paddle. I know you can take it, that you need it.”

He waited knowing Jack wasn’t going to speak because he didn’t give him permission to do so, but he waited anyway to give Jack a chance to protest, back out. Silence was his answer; he squeezed his Captain’s hip and grabbed the long forgotten paddle.

All of a sudden he didn’t want this, didn’t want to hurt Jack anymore. He was supposed to love him, fuck punishment. But he couldn’t stop because it wasn’t about the bloody punishment anymore. It was about what Jack needed and his lover was so close to accepting love and care, so close to submitting fully. If he gave in now, he’d break the ambiance. Worse still, he might break Jack.

Schooling his features, mask back in place, Ianto braced himself for what he had to do. Just ten strikes with the paddle. He held his breath and… one.

Jack stayed still, silent, taking… two.

Ianto shivered, contemplated putting the paddle down and snuggling with Jack but… three.

Jack moaned but Ianto let it go, let him slip back without correction, this time… four.

Ianto almost dropped the paddle, almost… five.

Jack shook, Ianto knew the Captain was crying silently, he’d almost start himself but couldn’t stop yet… six.

Ianto felt the aura around them turn purple (bugger, he could see what?) but he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to consider whether what he saw was real or a hallucination so he braced himself… seven.

Jack’s shoulders slumped into the mattress; he couldn’t hold his head up anymore… eight.

Ianto’s heart broke, he wanted to throw the paddle against the wall, chuck it into the incinerator, but he regained control, Dom walls cracked but not shattered… nine.

_Give in Jack, please give in_ , Ianto begged silently… ten.

The paddle went flying through the room and made a satisfying whack against the wall, hopefully cracking from the impact.

He paused and took a breath struggling to keep himself in control. He felt like crying, screaming, mumbling, and laughing at the same time. But couldn’t lose it now, if he did he could lose Jack.

The red turned purple now, beginnings of bruising. It would only last the night and by tomorrow Jack would sit down like nothing occurred. And yet, the psychological impact would last coving, masking existing scars.

When his emotions were in check again, Ianto grabbed a bottle of lube making sure Jack clearly heard the click of the cap, satisfied when his lover’s body twitched minutely at the sound.

Using the dry hand he soothed Jack’s bruised cheeks, feather light fingers making circular motions, watching the other man for signs of pan (only pleasure now). He pressed a lubed finger at the entrance and paused. He counted in his head to five before putting slight pressure at the entrance watching Jack’s body shudder as his Captain struggled to keep still and silent.

“You are so amazing Jack. So precious…” He had to stop talking because his voice hitched on the last syllable. He wanted to tell him how important Jack was, how he saved his life, how he was his everything, how he loved him. Instead silence articulated all that was unspoken, lying bare between the two to be lost forever in oblivion.

He pressed his finger in all the way and heard Jack rein in a whimper with a rush of rugged air passing through those perfect kissable lips. He waited unmoving as he counted slowly to five again.

“I wish you could see what your needy arse looks like trying to swallow my finger, wanting it to move desperately.” His voice dripped with sweetness and fondness, almost at odds with the dirty words slipping through, “I love watching you so wonton on the inside but restraining yourself to please me. So captivating.”

Slowly fucking Jack with his finger, he made sure to avoid his Captain’s prostate with every move. Slow and torturous, he smiled. The steady rhythm wrapping his body as it moved with the finger, rocking back and forth on his heels. He watched, dazed, as his fingers were swallowed by Jack’s scorching heat (always warm) just to come back out into the lonely cold air.

He wanted, no, needed more of Jack’s heat and without thinking a breathless moan slipped the Dom walls through a crack, “Need you.”

The first finger joined with a second and the rhythm increased, both men lost to the soundless tune. More cracks appeared in the walls, splintering as Ianto’s fingers once in a while hit that delicious bundle of nerves sending shockwaves through Jack. But he rocked to the beat of the drum, lost in the cadence.

The two fingers joined with a third, faster, the tempo swelled, whole body in motion as more cracks penetrated his well constructed space.

The whole world narrowed to that moment. Ianto kissed the shoulders and then down the back, licking and nipping his way down. Tasting sweat, smelling like Jack, only Jack, pheromones amplified by the other man’s arousal invaded Ianto’s brain with the sweetness of honey and the spice of cinnamon. He needed to devour his lover. Overwhelming need.

Rein in control.

Taking a deep breath, he settled back inside his glass walls knowing he couldn’t fix all the cracks but could keep them from breaking until after he took care of Jack. Another deep breath watching the wonder in front of him, he considered whether Jack was thinking he’s building anticipation or whether he was thinking at all.

He doesn’t take the care with himself as he did when undressing Jack. He opened his trouser button and zipper haphazardly and fast. Taking his hard cock (had he really forgotten about it until now?) out while still being dressed otherwise reinforced his responsibility to the beautiful man before him (first, always first).

Lining himself with Jack’s entrance, he placed a comforting hand on the shoulders and whispered instructions he wasn’t sure Jack needed in the first place, “Cum only from me. Don’t touch, don’t move.”

Jack seemed like he drifted to another plane of existence but a small part of him was still fighting. He could see it in the tension, the desire to push back evident in every spasm. He pushed in anyway, not sure he could resist the alluring heat (always warm) anymore.

Once he was in all the way he paused, wrapped inside this perfect (safe) bubble of warmth the Earth stopped moving. Both men still and silent just being in that one flawless moment. No thoughts, fears, nightmares just… this.

Silence.

Stillness.

Being.

Movement,slow and torturous; Ianto just rocked against Jack not once letting go of the contact between those red hot cheeks and his hips.

Jack’s compliance sent shivers down his spine. All he wanted right now was to pound hard and fast into his lover’s body losing himself inside the other man. Control. He reminded himself that this wasn’t for him. He wanted to make Jack as crazy, wanton, and desperate as Jack had made him earlier. Thank you.

“I could do this all day, Jack. Ride you slow making sure to keep you filled in nice and deep with every move. Never get bored.”

The body below him quivered at his words, shaking, glistening from sweat. He could feel Jack’s thigh muscles struggling to keep his body in this position.

“And I can do whatever I please, isn’t that right Jack? You told me earlier that you wanted anything and who am I to refuse.”

The pace was languid, like a leisurely stroll in the park when the sun was up high and shining warmth.

His whisper accentuated by the strong, calm, and controlled voice, “Let go Jack. Let me take care of you.”

He slowed down his lethargic thrusts even more, almost stopping inside Jack.

“Accept it, cariad.”

He traced the Captain’s spine with the lightest of touches when he felt it, the acceptance. The vibrations of their bodies changed, Jack’s muscles seemed to melt and he steadied his grip on the other man’s hips for fear that he would fall. It was his job to hold him up, take care of him, let him just be.

And it was beautiful, this acceptance, this gift of submission from a man who (almost) never submitted to anyone much less an insignificant Welsh boy. He picked up his pace, hitting Jack’s prostate each turn.

He didn’t need words anymore, didn’t need to play games, ask whether Jack understood about the punishment, because he already knew. Anything else would belittle the metamorphosis; something every day and mundane, two separate beings existing at the same point in time and space for a limited amount of time, transforming into a single creature moving, breathing as one while life electrified every cell.

Jack let Ianto Jones take him there, to this place beyond the stars, beyond existence, and Ianto wouldn’t play with his emotions when he was vulnerable, he wouldn’t subject him to questioning or humiliation. He’d just care; treat him like glass, like the most precious jewel in the galaxy; care for him like he’d never care for himself.

His pace solid and steady now, he felt Jack’s body take the pleasure, no questions, no hiding his bare and exposed soul; just accepting that he’s worth it, he’s worth being taken care of.

Keeping one last thread of control as the glass walls entirely cracked around him, Ianto finally let himself feel pleasure coursing, building in his cock. He started thrusting widely and erratically, pounding violently into Jack, but still holding him up, not letting him fall. The last thread of control still holding strong.

He could tell Jack that he’s got him, that he wouldn’t ever let go, that he could cum now if he wanted to. But he felt Jack already knew so he squeezed his hips, Jack would understand his silent permission.

Somewhere, behind his haze, the cracked glass of his Dom space, he felt Jack’s body shudder and his muscles clench from orgasm but those sensations barely registered. He was totally and utterly lost, lost in his pleasure through Jack, lost in hanging on to the soul underneath him, and as his own orgasm hit violently, his vision blacked out.

Next thing he knew, he found himself with Jack curled out around his body (fully naked now except for the tie?) sleeping. Cum, sweat, and the scent of sex enveloping him in a familiar shell of comfort as the broken shards of his glass Dom walls lay scattered around. He curled into Jack, desperately holding on to the tie. He was released so he let darkness take over again as he drifted away into a dreamless slumber basking in the heated (always warm) skin next to him.


End file.
